


The High School Party AU No-One Asked For

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: tumblr prompt basket [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Sam Winchester, Castiel has no idea why they're friends with him, Charlie Bradbury cameo, Consent is Vitally Important, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Siblings, Discussion of Theoretical DubCon Sex With A Minor, Discussions of Theoretical Wincest, Gabriel cameo, Human Gabriel, Human Lucifer, Human Michael (Supernatural), Human Naomi (Supernatural), Ill-Advised Make-Outs, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kissing Happens, Liquid Nitrogen Is Dangerous To Living Tissue, Lucifer (Supernatural) is Called Luke, Lucifer cameo, Lucifer is a dick, M/M, Meg is a good friend, Meg is the school's Queen Bee, Michael cameo, Naomi cameo, Sam and Dean are track stars, Spin the Bottle, alcohol mention, brief Benny/Charlie, brief Michael/Dean, brief Naomi/Castiel, brief Sam/Jess - Freeform, castiel is a nerd, discussions of child abuse, heavy kissing, not so brief Charlie/Meg, underage drinking mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-09 19:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12895134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: High school parties were not Castiel Einsam's usual preferred weekend activity. However, when you're inexplicably best friends with the local gods of the track team and high school's Queen Bee herself, you often find yourself doing things you never expected to do... like confessing your feelings to one of said track gods with a kiss in front of the elite of the senior class.





	1. Llamas Don't Care If You're A Coward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts), [BarryAllenIsTheFlash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarryAllenIsTheFlash/gifts).



> tumblr Kiss Prompt #21: Kiss on a dare!
> 
> Part one of at least three, because who doesn't enjoy a High School Party AU that fosters make-outs?

**I**  DARE YOU,”

Castiel Einsam frowned at his best friend, Meg Masters, and took another sip of his (weak and disappointingly bland) beer. “That’s not going to work, Meg, and it’s a horrible idea.”

“Oh, come on!” Meg wheedled, leaning up against his side. “He’s your friend, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could punch me and tell me to never come near him again,” Castiel said promptly, having put entirely too much thought into just this scenario not to have a ready answer. “And then his brother refuses to speak to me ever again, I lose two of my three only friends, and have to change my name and move out of the country to Peru to raise llamas.”

“...Okay, you lost me at the llamas,” Meg admitted, shaking her head. “Cas, baby, do you really think so little of that boy?”

“What?” Castiel jerked upright and turned to stare at Meg. “Of course not! I think the world of him, that’s the problem!”

“And in all that thinking the world of him, has he ever given any indication that he would react that negatively, even if he didn’t return your feelings?” Meg pressed.

“Well... no,” Castiel admitted, looking down even as his anxiety tried to rise up and strangle the flicker of hope starting to flare in his chest. “But--”

“But nothing,” Meg said firmly, using one hand to turn Castiel around towards the far side of the living room where Sam and Dean Winchester were standing in animated conversation with the Cajun transfer student, Benny Lafitte, her other hand deftly plucking his beer out of his grip. “Now I double dog dare you to go kiss that Winchester boy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years, and make it good.” She gave him a little shove and added “Go get ‘im, tiger!”

“Rowr,” Castiel grumbled in deadpan as he managed to regain his balance, but gamely started across the room, weaving in and out of various classmates in his path. Benny noticed him first and drew the attention of the other two so that when Castiel finally reached him all three were looking at him with various levels of curiosity.

“What’s the word, Cas?” Dean asked amiably.

“It’s the shortened form of my name,” Castiel answered absently, still trying to gather up his courage. Said courage faltered as Sam nearly spat out the mouthful of soda he’d just drunk and Dean cast his eyes up to the ceiling as he shook his head.

“Think he means what’s got y’comin’ over here like yer on a mission from God, cher,” Benny offered with a smirk, making Castiel flush even more.

“Oh. I...” His throat closed. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t force out the words. Instead, he reached up and grabbed a handful of blue plaid flannel and pulled Sam Winchester down into a kiss.


	2. Crushes Don't Last Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV of the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr Kiss Prompt #38: Awkward teenage crush kiss!

**T** HE PROBLEM WITH having an older brother as close to him as Dean was, Sam Winchester reflected with mingled fondness and despair, was that secrets didn’t tend to exist between them. Every time one of them had even tried to keep a secret in the past, the other had ferreted it out within a week, if not sooner, so they had mutually agreed not to keep any secrets from one another with the sole exception of what one of them was getting the other for Christmas or their birthday. Those secrets didn’t tend to last long, either, but that was more because the tiny apartment they lived in was devoid of any real hiding places, meaning both of them already knew what the other had gotten them for Christmas this year and they were both pretending to have no idea.

That same lack of boundaries meant that when Sam had developed a massive crush on his and Dean’s mutual best friend Castiel Einsam, Dean had known about it before Sam had. Unlike the last time Sam had had a crush, a short-lived affair on Rachel Nave at their last school, there was no teasing from his older brother. Instead, Dean sat him down and talked to him seriously about sexuality, the practical aspects of sex and the difference between sex with girls and sex with guys, and a gentle reminder that Sam being three years younger than Castiel could spell trouble for them both if they got caught and Dean would have his back if anyone - Castiel included - gave him a hard time about it. Only slightly mortified, Sam had assured his brother that he had no intention of saying or doing anything about his crush until he was at least sixteen, assuming it even lasted that long. He was a teenager, after all.

A year and change later, however, the crush was still in full swing and didn’t appear to be losing steam anytime soon. Case in point, surrounded by various classmates in differing states of intoxication and despite the entirely riveting debate going on between him, Dean, and Dean’s sprinting alternate Benny Lafitte about the outcome of a pirates versus ninjas versus zombies free-for-all, Sam kept finding his attention straying to where Castiel stood against the far wall of the living room talking to Meg Masters and trying to smother the flares of jealousy whenever she leaned into Castiel’s personal space and he let her get away with it.

“You know, you could just bite the bullet and talk to the guy,” Dean interrupted his latest internal battle against the green eyed monster who wasn’t his older brother.

“Still fifteen,” Sam reminded him, mentally patting himself on the back when he managed to not sound bitter.

“C’mon, Sammy, it’s been over a year,” Dean prodded. “If you haven’t gotten over this thing you got for Cas by now, you ain’t gonna. Plus, we’re graduating this year. You wanna run the risk of losing him to some college girl because you didn’t speak up while he was in arm’s reach?”

“You wanna say that a little louder?” Sam hissed, irritated. “‘Cause I don’t think they heard you in the kitchen.”

“Speakin’ of arms reach, brothers,” Benny spoke up, dry chiding and affectionate nickname all in one word, “but yer  _ange d’solitaire_  is comin’ this way.”

Sure enough. Castiel had broken away from Meg some time during Sam’s distraction with Dean’s completely unreasonable suggestion and was making his way through the crowd with a remarkable level of coordination given Sam was pretty sure he’d watched the older boy down three beers already. Hastily he lifted his own drink - ginger ale, he wasn’t stupid enough to grab a beer around their classmates - in order to stop himself from saying something incredibly stupid.

Dean took care of that for him. “What’s the word, Cas?” his brother asked jovially when Castiel was within party-level earshot.

“It’s the shortened form of my name,” Castiel answered in that bland way he had that made it almost impossible to tell if he was screwing with you or not. Sam choked on his soda, practically spitting it back into the cup as he tried to laugh and cough at the same time like a grade-A moron while Dean just shook his head in exasperation.

“Think he means what’s got y’comin’ over here like yer on a mission from God, cher,” Benny piped up from where he stood watching all three of them and smirking. To Sam’s surprise, Castiel’s cheeks turned pink.

“Oh,” he said, sounding oddly discomfited. “I....”

Sam tried not to hold his breath while waiting to hear what Castiel was going to say. It turned out not to matter as, rather than continue whatever thought he had meant to voice, Castiel suddenly reached up and grabbed the front of Sam’s shirt, hauling him down and into a firm kiss that send every thought save one flying out of Sam’s head entirely.

....He was so screwed.


	3. Who Needs Llamas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of Castiel's dare fulfillment. It goes better than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr Kiss Prompt #70: Starting With A Kiss Meant To Be Gentle, Ending Up In Passion
> 
> Obviously, I didn't let it go too far - this is a high school party and Sam is fifteen - but there's a reason the rating went up!

**T** HE MOMENT THAT Castiel’s lips touched Sam’s, he knew that he was screwed. Sam’s mouth was soft with surprise and wet from his soda, and when Castiel tilted his head to avoid crushing their noses together Sam’s mouth fell open on a low moan and Castiel was lost. Wiry arms wound their way around his waist and pulled him hard against a lean body with surprising strength. The hand Castiel did not have tangled up in flannel reached up to cup the back of Sam’s head, fingers tangling in hair that was every bit as soft as he had imagined.

Castiel licked his lips, unconsciously trying to capture the taste of Sam, only to jump as his tongue swept over soft flesh that was not his own. Sam gasped into his mouth and opened  _further_ , and Castiel very nearly growled as he dove in, and Sam’s answering groan vibrated right through him in a way that made Castiel arch and press even closer as if he could somehow transcend the physical and become one with Sam through full body contact.

“...Okay, did not see that coming.”

The voice was familiar -  _Dean_  - but completely unrelated to the feel and scent and taste of Sam, and so Castiel ignored it. Sam had just done something with his tongue that almost made it seem longer than humanly possible that sent Castiel’s hands spasming. The noise Sam made when Castiel’s nails dragged their way across his scalp was downright feral and sent a familiar surge of heat through Castiel’s gut.

“To be fair, I told him to kiss the Winchester boy he’s been crushing on for two years. Kinda thought that was gonna be Dean, but this actually makes more sense...”

Meg. That might have been worth responding to - there had been reasons why Castiel had thought this was a bad idea once, even if he couldn’t remember a single one right now - but Sam had taken his hesitation as a sign to turn the tables and now the younger boy’s tongue was very nearly plundering his mouth in its exploration. Experimentally, Castiel sucked lightly at the invading tongue and-- ooh, that was a nice reaction, a full body shiver that ended in a rock of Sam’s hips against his.

“Is either of them actually breathin’?”

That voice was less familiar, though the accent was a clear enough identification if Castiel could have scraped together enough brain cells to pay attention to something as unimportant as voices. One of Sam’s hands left his back, causing Castiel to whimper a protest into that heavenly mouth, and then the hand was back, sliding up into his hair to grip the back of his neck and oh, God--!

He made a horribly embarrassing, needy sound as his knees gave out and he fell against Sam’s chest, the sudden increase in their already notable height difference breaking the kiss and leaving Castiel practically hanging in Sam’s arms, chest heaving with the effort to draw in air his lungs were convinced that he needed. Sam wasn’t in much better shape, gasping audibly for breath from somewhere above Castiel’s head even as his arms clutched Castiel to him, either in an effort to keep him close or to keep him upright. Castiel would have to express his gratitude for either sentiment once he could speak again, and possibly for several other things.

“So, that happened,” Dean commented. He sounded more like he was asking for confirmation than stating fact, and there were several voices around them expressing agreement and oh, crap, Castiel had just made out heavily with his fifteen-year-old crush in front of the entire senior class! He could feel the heat rushing to his face and buried it into Sam’s chest to hide.

“Bite me, jerk,” Sam said, still sounding a bit winded but steady. The hand that had been on Castiel’s neck was now carding through his hair. Castiel tried not to purr. “Besides, weren’t you just telling me I should talk to Cas about my feelings for him?”

“Talking usually involves words, bitch, not tonsil hockey,” Dean drawled pointedly. Then he added, a bit more lightly, “But I guess this avoids any possible miscommunication about intentions.”

“So much for that Peruvian llama farm, eh, Clarence?” Meg teased.

“Bite me,” Castiel muttered, echoing Sam’s earlier words with a similar lack of heat. Steeling his nerves, he sternly ordered his knees to begin supporting his weight again and pulled away just enough to tilt his head back, looking shyly up into Sam’s downturned face. “I love you.”

“Oh, good,” Sam answered, a smile breaking across his face like actual sunshine. “I love you, too.”


	4. Power Isn't Always Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Castiel have an overdue talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #74: Kisses Where One Person Is Sitting In The Other’s Lap

**C** OMMUNICATION IS IMPORTANT in any relationship, whether fledgeling or long-standing. Sam and Dean had long since mastered the art of communicating without a word, which allowed them to carry out an entire argument within the space of a minute and three seconds without a word. Sam won the argument, and so Dean grabbed Meg and Benny and began doing damage control in regards to the rest of the party guests while Sam gently tugged Castiel away and the two of them slipped upstairs to have a more verbal conversation.

They ended up in Meg’s bedroom more or less by accident. By mutual agreement both Sam and Castiel avoided the bed, and the only other place to sit was Meg’s desk chair that was some horrible post-modern monstrosity that looked more like a medieval torture device than a chair, so they both sat on the floor instead. Sam sat cross-legged with his back against the bed, leaving Castiel to sprawl on the plush area rug between the bed and the door.

“So,” Sam began before the silence could stretch too far into uncomfortable. “Meg said something about a two-year crush?”

“It’s not what it sounded like,” Castiel said, flushing. “I mean, yes, I’ve been... interested in you for that long, but it wasn’t a sexual interest. Until tonight, anyway,” he mumbled, looking mortified.

“Good to know?” Sam half-asked. It  _was_  good to know, really, since it meant he was right about Castiel not being some kind of predator, but it did beg the question of what reason the older boy had to be interested in him. “So, why...?”

“Why was I interested?” Castiel glanced up, then down again. “I... it sounds stupid when I try to put it into words, but I first became... aware of you... not long after you and Dean moved here. You were engaged in an animated debate with Ava Wilson on the morality of superpowers, and your argument was... unique.”

Sam flushed as well, remembering that argument. Ava had been all about superpowers being the ultimate cheat code in a game of survival of the fittest. Sam had been almost vehement in his counterargument that anyone with superpowers had an obligation to keep other people with superpowers in check so as not to run roughshod over the “normals”, but that dressing up in a costume and stopping ordinary bank robberies or muggings was a surefire way for the super-powered person to get killed, either by frightened trigger-happy cops or some powerful idiot deciding to play the super _villain_.

“And that... that started a crush?” he managed, not sure what to make of that.

“I would not have called it that at the time,” Castiel muttered. “But yes, that was the start of my interest in you as a person worth getting to know in more depth. That interest has been a constant for the last two years, and only seems to have increased the more I learned about you.” He glanced up, then glanced just as quickly away again, the fingers of one hand twisting in the thick fibers of the rug from what Sam guessed was nerves. “I wasn’t gonna mention it.”

“Because I’m fifteen?” Sam hazarded. It was, after all, the primary reason he hadn’t said anything about his own feelings.

“Because you’re amazing!” Castiel burst out, startling Sam as he pushed himself up to lean forward intently. “You’re fascinating and engaging and staggeringly intelligent, kind and courageous and incredibly resilient... Sam, there are days I can scarcely believe you’re willing to speak to me when you could do so much better, be with someone... better.”

“Who would be better than you?” Sam demanded, pushing up onto his knees and shuffling forward to within arms reach. “Because I’ve tried for over a year and a half to talk myself out of being head over heels for you and I just keep falling further!”

“A year and a half?” Castiel repeated uncertainly, looking up to search Sam’s face for the truth. Sam kept his eyes on Castiel’s and his expression open and honest as he nodded.

“That day Gordon Walker got suspended,” he said. From the widening of Castiel’s eyes, he knew the older boy was remembering the confrontation between the then-Senior Walker and a Junior Sam who was a full three years younger than his classmates. The confrontation had been building for months and had finally spilled over because Sam had intervened when Walker started in on harassing Freshman Andy Gallagher. Sam had goaded Walker into throwing the first punch, then wrestled the larger boy down to the ground and pinned him with the combat moves John Winchester had taught both his boys when he’d been home and sober.

“You were the one who held Dean back from intervening,” Sam reminded him softly, reaching out to stroke back some of the tousled black hair. “You said, ‘don’t you dare invalidate what your brother is doing.’ Because you got why I was doing it, why I was letting Gordon strike first. And when you helped me clean the blood off my face afterwards, you didn’t lecture me like Ava or congratulate me like Jake, you just asked me if I was going to be okay.”

“And you said you would be, eventually, and so would Andy,” Castiel murmured, leaning into Sam’s touch slightly. “That’s when...?”

“When I started falling,” Sam confirmed. “No one else has ever gotten me like you do except Dean, not even the other AP kids. That was true a year and a half ago and it’s still true now, and I’ve gotten to know even more about you that just makes you more awesome. I love you, Castiel.”

“...Get over here,” Castiel said lowly, almost growling, as he stared up at Sam with wide blue eyes. “I’m falling more in love with you with every word and now I need to kiss you again.”

“Oh, you do, huh?” Sam teased gently, raising an eyebrow even as he slid the rest of the way over to settle his legs on either side of Castiel’s hips. Castiel tilted his head back to look up at Sam, who smirked. “Let’s see if I can’t answer that need, hm?” he murmured, and bent to kiss Castiel again.


	5. So About Those Llamas....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Castiel rejoin the party, only to be ambushed by Dean and Meg who seem eager to spark a repeat performance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #39: Spin the bottle kiss! Because what's a high school party without ill-advised kissing games? XD

**P** ULLING THEMSELVES APART was more difficult than Castiel had expected, and it made him and Sam agree that they should probably rejoin the rest of the party before the temptation of being alone in a bedroom got the better of their already compromised good sense. They fixed their clothes and hair carefully, double-checking each other to make sure they were both presentable. There was no hiding their slightly swollen lips, or the rasp of stubble burn on Sam’s neck, but for the most part it was good enough to pass a casual inspection.

They hadn’t counted on the fact that it was Dean and Meg who had been left in charge of damage control, a fact that became immediately obvious when they descended the stairs and were set upon by the pair.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Dean started as Sam and Castiel were herded unceremoniously towards the living room. “Several people heard Meg say the kiss was a dare, and several more saw the kiss start to get hot and heavy, but--”

“So far it can just be passed off as alcohol and hormones and teenaged stupidity,” Meg broke in from where she was pulling Castiel along. “But! To keep that mindset going, we need to create a set-up where that kind of thing can happen to more people than just you two.”

“That way, it’s not just you two who got caught up in the heat of the moment, but a bunch of people,” Dean finished, nudging Castiel’s back to get him to move faster.

“I’m almost afraid to ask how you expect to do this,” Sam deadpanned. Under the cover of their being jostled by Dean and Meg, the younger boy fumbled for Castiel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Castiel squeezed back before reluctantly letting go.

“One of the oldest high school party games guaranteed to devolve into ill-advised make-outs!” Dean assured them as they reached the growing circle of classmates around a (hopefully) empty beer bottle and Castiel and Sam were both “gently” invited to join the circle. With far more cheer than Castiel thought was really warranted, Dean asked the assembled, “So! Who’s spinning first?”

Apparently by majority consensus, asking the question meant Dean spun first. The bottle landed on Michael Gottesschwert, the school quarterback, who rolled his eyes at Dean and pulled him in for a loud smacking kiss before settling back against his girlfriend, Naomi Tapping.

Benny spun next, being seated on Dean’s other side. His spin landed on the person next to him, a redheaded girl Castiel vaguely recognized from English Lit, who made a face at the Cajun’s over the top eyebrow waggle. A quick game of rock-paper-scissors and the redhead kissed Benny on the cheek, and then it was her turn to spin. She looked much happier about the bottle landing on Meg, and the resulting kiss was certainly enough to qualify as an ill-advised make-out judging by the wolf-whistles from around the circle.

And so the game went. Sam and Castiel each ended up getting kissed by different people. Sam ended up getting a rather giggly kiss from a blonde girl named Jess. Castiel’s came when Naomi’s spin landed on him, and he froze in terror. Naomi graciously crossed the circle herself to kiss him chastely on the lips before returning to Michael, who thankfully didn’t look in any danger of blowing up at Castiel for kissing his girlfriend.

All too soon, it was Castiel’s turn. He tried not to eye the bottle too mistrustfully as he angled his wrist and sent the bottle spinning with fingers more used to turning book pages than spinning bottles. The brown glass spun around wildly until it finally came to rest on... Sam.

“Here we go again,” Castiel heard Dean mutter as Sam grabbed him by the front of the shirt in a mirror of Castiel’s own earlier actions and pulled him into a fierce, burning kiss. “What was that he said before about llamas?”


	6. And Being Responsible Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had a feeling he wasn't going to like Dean and Meg's solution. He didn't realize just how much he wasn't going to like it. Hard to complain about the results, though....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #66: Staring At The Other’s Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In!

**I** T HAD BEEN all Sam could do to keep his hands to himself while he and Castiel sat in the circle with his brother and their classmates. He wanted nothing more than to pull Castiel close against his side the way Michael was holding Naomi, or even just hold the older boy’s hand while they played. He knew logically that a large part of that was due to the psychological need to touch and reaffirm connection between new romantic partners, and could even think of twenty different ways to do so without it seeming unusual or inherently sexual, easily passed off as two friends who were as close as he and Castiel had always been.

He could also admit that at least a small part of that desire was to stake his claim on Castiel. Dean and Meg may have thought they were helping with the whole “ill-advised make-outs impetus” that this game was supposed to be, but Sam found himself tense and unhappy over the prospect of anyone else kissing Castiel in front of him. It didn’t even occur to him that he might end up the one kissed by someone else until Jessica Moore was giggling nervously and pressing a quick, thankfully chaste kiss to his lips. He ducked his head to hide the flash of discomfort and glanced sideways at Castiel from under his bangs, but the older boy was studiously looking down at his hands, teeth worrying at his lower lip.

Maybe he should stop staring at Castiel’s lips if he wanted to keep any kind of composure for this game.

When Naomi’s spin landed on Castiel, Sam had to grab Dean’s half-empty bottle of beer and drain it quickly to keep himself from watching or interfering. Ignoring Dean’s dirty look for the stolen beer, he managed to keep his expression neutral enough when he finally looked over at Castiel’s pale face and Naomi’s retreating back. His stomach clenched a little when he caught Michael giving him a thoughtful look, but the older boy just gave him a slight nod and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend again.

Sam tried not to feel bitter about not being able to do the same.

The next few turns passed in a blur of moving bodies and loud laughter, which Sam ignored in favor of trying and failing to keep himself from staring at Castiel’s lips and the smudge of Naomi’s pink lipstick lingering on his upper lip. When he caught himself thinking about what color lip print he’d like to leave on Castiel’s skin, he had to stop and rub his eyes because the idea of him wearing lipstick just to be able to mark up Castiel’s face and neck with kisses was not one that would have occurred to him before tonight. It was surprisingly hot, though, and he made a mental note to bring up the idea with Castiel later.

And then, suddenly, it was Castiel’s turn to spin, and all of Sam’s nerves swooped back into the front of his mind. He locked his eyes on the bottle as Castiel reached forward and sent it spinning around wildly.  _Please_ , he prayed,  _please let me survive this game...._

The bottle slowed... stopped.

“Here we go again!” Dean complained as Sam all but launched himself at Castiel, grabbing the front of the older boy’s shirt and dragging him into the kiss he’d wanted to plant on Castiel before they had even sat down. From the way Castiel melted into him with a low moan, Sam didn’t think he was going to complain.


	7. Have You Ever Seen an Angry Llama?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the lull after the game, Castiel just wanted to get another drink, preferably something stronger than cheap, weak beer, and try to wrestle his uncomfortably awakened hormones back under control. Little did he know that a kitchen confrontation would awaken a whole different side of hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #73: Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes! Longer chapter to make up for the short chapter before.
> 
> WARNING: Crude discussion of theoretical sex with with a minor. Lucifer is a dick.

**N** O ONE OBJECTED when Sam and Castiel politely but firmly bowed out of any further rounds of Spin the Bottle. Dean pouted briefly that it was Sam’s turn to spin, but quickly changed the subject when Sam shot him a speaking look that Castiel wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. Meg, at least, waved them off with a rueful little smile that belied her put-upon sigh, so Castiel figured she wasn’t too irritated with them for not sticking with the “plan”.

As tempting as it was to stick close to Sam’s side and anchor himself in the younger Winchester’s familiar presence, Castiel was starting to get more than a little overwhelmed. Everything he had felt for Sam over the last two years felt magnified, unbound, churning beneath the surface of his skin like water boiling over. It was as if the simple knowledge that his feelings were returned, that Sam loved him back, had opened the floodgates to all those messy, physical sensations he’d heard described but never actually felt for himself until Meg’s stupid dare had set things into unrelenting motion. It felt like drowning. It felt like flying.

It was that feeling that had Castiel tilt his head up towards Sam and say, as casually as he could manage, “I’m going to go get another drink. Would you like anything?”

And Sam, bless his pure soul and kind heart, looked into his eyes and practically seemed to read his mind. “I might get some water a little later,” he said, giving Castiel’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing him. “Last thing I should probably be doing right now is putting any more inhibition-lowering chemicals in my system.”

It was a fair point, and one Castiel himself might have considered under different circumstances. Right now, though, he felt off-kilter enough that the prospect of the depressant chemicals of alcohol dampening his anxiety enough to get him through the rest of this Hell of a party at the side of his own personal Heaven was too tempting to pass up. With a murmured “be right back”, he reluctantly broke away from Sam and headed into the kitchen.

There were only a few people loitering in the spacious kitchen, thankfully, most of his classmates having been pulled towards the living room to either join or spectate the newest round of Spin the Bottle. Castiel moved surely with purpose towards the icebox where he knew Meg’s brother Tom kept a few cans of imported Czech dark ale. The stuff was sweeter than Castiel usually liked, but it was also thirteen percent alcohol by volume. He dug one out from the back, popped the tab, and downed half the can in four long gulps before he had to come up for air with a huff that was more irritation than satisfaction.

“That shit any better than this shit?” a voice asked from over by the counter where Castiel knew whatever was left of the PBR cases was standing.

“Not really,” Castiel said rather flatly and lifted the can again, hoping to discourage conversation. The alcohol burned a little, but not much, and the can was empty in three more swallows. It was tempting to grab one of Ezra Masters’s bottles of Arrogant Bastard next, but he still had enough sense to know the difference between an easily disguised can and a large, obvious brown bottle twice the size of the bottles of Corona a couple of the art department darlings had brought.

“Surprised to see you drinking so much, Einsam,” the voice continued, either missing or just blithely ignoring Castiel’s hint to leave him alone, even though the sound of footsteps told him that others in the room had gotten the hint. “But then, you’re sure surprising a lot of people tonight, you and the Winchester kid.”

That made Castiel shoot a narrow look in the direction of the voice. The speaker turned out to be Luke Gottesschwert, Michael’s rebellious younger brother, a Sophomore and technically not supposed to be at this party despite hitching a ride with his older brother. He was decked out in ripped jeans and a Led Zeppelin shirt that looked too sharp to be more than a few weeks off the racks and a beaten up leather jacket that looked a lot like Dean’s but Castiel would bet his GPA had less personal history. When he saw he had Castiel’s attention, Luke grinned. “How drunk was he before you got to take him upstairs?”

“Excuse me?” Castiel said, slowly and deliberately. He couldn’t have heard that right, there was no way this kid was implying what it sounded like.

“Gotta say,” Luke went on, casting a leer in the direction of the living room, “if I’d known all it took to get that tight ass to drop trou was a beer or three and just grabbing him and planting one on him, he wouldn’t have had to settle for just fifteen minutes!”

_Crunch!_

Luke stilled, turning to stare at Castiel, who continued to systematically crush the beer can he was holding with one hand as he slowly drew himself up to his full six feet of height and turned to face the other boy. With the unerring accuracy born of practice and familiarity, Castiel snapped his hand across his body, sending the can - now crushed down to the size and shape of a hockey puck - directly at the right spot on the kitchen wall to ricochet off into the recycling bin, all without moving his piercing gaze from the wanna be punk in front of him.

“You are not touching Sam Winchester,” Castiel growled, staring the taller boy down.

“Oh yeah?” Luke sneered, looking Castiel up and down with disdain. “What’s gonna stop me? A little nerd like you?”

“Maybe,” Castiel said, more calmly than the thundering in his ears would suggest, not giving an inch. “Or maybe it’ll be his brother. Or even your brother. Or maybe,” he added, ice sliding into his voice, “you should remember that Sam Winchester took down Gordon Walker, and no one touches him without his consent. Not you. Not me. No one.”

Whatever was in his eyes was enough to make Luke step back, his own eyes widening a little. He recovered quickly, drawing himself up and leaning forward, attempting to loom over Castiel as he snarled, “Big talk from someone everyone here saw manhandling the kid earlier before you disappeared upstairs--”

“Oh, please!” a familiar and sarcastic voice broke in from beside them. Luke and Castiel turned their heads to look at Gabriel Gullvaengur, editor of Shurley High’s school newspaper, holding an unopened can of Mountain Dew. Seeing that he had their attention, Gabriel went on, “Have you  _seen_  Sam?” He gave an impressed whistle, using the hand not holding the can to sketch out Sam’s height (well above Gabriel’s own) and then his broad shoulders that weren’t quite on the same level as Michael’s but weren’t too far off considering Sam was three years younger than all his classmates. “No one can manhandle him unless the man  _wants_  to be handled, you get me? And from the angle I had, it looked like he was manhandling Cassie here right back!” he finished with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Yes, thank you, Gabriel,” Castiel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Because that was exactly the sort of thing he wanted Luke Gottesschwert to know while he was telling him off for wanting to molest his... Sam.

Gabriel looked from one to the other, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Here, let's settle this,” he said, turning towards the living room and cupped a hand around his mouth. “Hey, Winchester the Younger!"

There was a moment of silence, then Sam poked his head into the kitchen. His eyes swept over Luke’s aggressive posture and Castiel’s ramrod straight back and flushed cheeks, then looked at Gabriel and raised an eyebrow. "You bellowed, shortstack?"

"Settle something for us,” Gabriel requested, waving him into the kitchen. Bemused, Sam came further in, detouring to the counter to grab a bottle of water and circling around the kitchen island to stand at Castiel’s side, drawing a scowl from Luke and a slight smirk from Gabriel. “Okay! So, answer this for us. If Cassie here wanted to take you upstairs for some hot and heavy action, would he get anywhere without your consent?"

Sam blinked, both eyebrows climbing into his hairline. "Not sure what you want me to say here since Cas already has my consent to do whatever he wants with me."

"He does?" Gabriel asked interestedly even as Castiel blurted out a startled, "I do?"

"Of course, Cas,” Sam said matter of factly, turning to smile softly at Castiel in that way he had which caused his dimples to show most strongly. Castiel flushed and glanced down at the floor with a shy, pleased smile as Sam explained, most likely for Luke and Gabriel’s benefit, “I trust you not to do anything I wouldn't be enthusiastic about and to stop if I ask you to, just like I would for you."

"Okaaay... Then say  _Luke_  here,” Gabriel gestured to Luke, who was still scowling, “made the same proposition, you would say...?"

"Absolutely not," Sam said firmly, eyes narrowing in suspicion at Luke, who now looked like he might have been thinking of edging towards the door. Gabriel hummed consideringly.

"And if he didn't respect that?" Gabriel asked, sounding like he could guess what the answer was going to be.

"I'd break his face,” Sam obliged him in a calmly conversational tone. Castiel snuck a glance back up as Sam twisted the cap off his bottle of water, arm muscles flexing rather pointedly. “And once Dean heard about it he'd break everything else."

"There you go!" Gabriel said cheerfully, popping open his soda can and taking a big gulp of the sugary caffeine-laden liquid. Luke scowled, flushed and shifty and clearly realizing he was probably more out of his depth than he’d thought, but too prideful to back down just yet.

"And your nerd boyfriend?” he sneered, more bluster and bark than substance, but still reaching. Castiel felt his spine stiffening as Luke went on, goading, “He seemed to think he can do something."

"I have access to liquid nitrogen,” Castiel said in a deceptively mild tone, turning to stare flatly at Luke as his voice dropped several degrees in timbre and temperature. “And a healthy respect for its destructive properties when applied to... soft tissue." The pointed glance downwards was probably not necessary, but the way Luke went pale and sickly was incredibly satisfying, as was the way he all but scurried out of the kitchen.

“And on that horrifying thought,” Gabriel drawled, giving Castiel a look of impressed respect, “I’m gonna go see if Kali wants to go participate in one of those ill-advised make-outs I heard Dean-o talking about.” He saluted them both with his Mountain Dew and sauntered away.

“Just so you know,” Sam said in a low voice as Castiel turned to look up at him, catching the full force of Sam’s radiant smile. “You are one scary badass when you want to be, and I’m both terrified and turned on right now. I’m also kind of interested in seeing how many people Dean ends up kissing before someone finally calls game over. You in?”

“I have imbibed sufficient quantities of inhibition-lowering chemicals,” Castiel said, stretching up on his tiptoes to press a quick kiss to the corner of that smile, imagining that this must be what kissing actual sunshine felt like. “Do with me what you will.”


	8. I Know Who I Want To Take Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party's over and everyone but "family" has been chased off. When Castiel finally gives in to the pull of alcohol and passes out, Dean takes the opportunity to have a serious conversation with Sam. Sam has a few things he wants to say, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #76: Top of Head Kisses!
> 
> WARNING: Discussion of child abuse and mature themes.

**M** EG STARTED KICKING everyone out around two in the morning. Tomorrow might be Saturday, but some of them had practice tomorrow and others had probably had more to drink than they could handle without needing to pass out somewhere. Wherever that somewhere might be, however, it would not be on Meg Masters’s living room floor, thank you very much. And no, the guest room was off limits, too.

As usual, Sam, Dean, and Castiel elected to stay behind to help clean up, and the redhead Meg had kissed, whose name turned out to be Charlie, elected to stay and help as well. Between the five of them, laughing and chatting back and forth as they picked up debris and straightened furniture, clean-up went fairly quickly.

Midway through an explanation for all those cryptic comments about llamas, Castiel started yawning and stumbling a little over his words. Sam nudged him towards the couch as per usual when his friend reached this stage, but this time Castiel caught his hand and tugged lightly, sleepy, soulful blue eyes gazing up at him hopefully. “M’glad I won’t haf’ta run away t’Peru an’ raise llamas,” he said seriously.

“Me too, Cas,” Sam said, giving in to the tugging and sitting down next to the older boy to pull him into a hug. “And if it ever becomes necessary, I’m going with you.”

A soft snore from Castiel was his only answer and Sam bit his lower lip to suppress a chuckle. He glanced around to see if he needed to get up at all, but Meg caught his eye and gave him a wink, so he settled back into the couch with Castiel tucked up against his side.

“So Peru?” Dean spoke up. Sam tilted his head back to look up at Dean, who in turn was tracking the way Castiel was minutely burrowing into Sam in his sleep. “Thought you had your eye on one of those big Ivy League universities after graduation.”

“Pending my acceptance to any of them,” Sam said, giving a half-shrug with the shoulder not supporting Castiel’s head. “Doesn’t hurt to have a back-up plan, and I heard there’s a decent market for alpaca wool among knitters.”

“Sure, but Peru?” Dean complained, making a face. “And what am I supposed to do if you go tearing off to another country, huh?”

“Dean,” Sam said, giving his brother a dry look. “We both know if I decided I wanted to move to freaking Australia you’d be searching travel options for the both of us. Except this isn’t really about Peru.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean muttered, looking down at the carpet. "It’s about you and Cas being so tangled up in each other you’d even consider running off to Peru to raise fucking llamas if that’s what it took to be together when you’re fifteen and he’s eighteen and we may not live in Kansas anymore, but Minnesota ain’t exactly California.”

“It’s not like these feelings are anything new,” Sam pointed out, bypassing the urge to snark that it would be warmer in California in favor of addressing the actual issue. “You’ve known about my feelings before I even realized what they were, and apparently Cas has been intellectually crushing on me for even longer. Hell, you were telling me I should tell him before Meg dared him to kiss me!”

“That was mostly theoretical, though,” Dean protested. “You didn’t know he felt the same so you weren’t actually thinking about even saying anything until May, never mind picturing the two of you running away together. You haven’t even been on a single date together - no, those paired projects and study sessions at Flo’s don’t count! - and I just... What would Dad say?"

"Fuck what Dad would say,” Sam growled, eyes flashing. Dean jerked, taken aback, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “I stopped listening to that bastard whenever he started drinking, which was more often than not,  after I turned twelve, so his possible opinion about my love life doesn't count for shit."

"He did the best he could--" Dean said weakly, the way he always did. Sam cut him off.

"But we deserved better, and you know it, Dean,” Sam wasn’t going to be put off with platitudes, and he needed Dean to hear him on this. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and forced himself to speak in a calm, level tone. “I didn't deserve to be blamed for Mom's death.  _You_  didn't deserve to have your childhood stolen being forced to take care of me at age  _four_.  _Neither_  of us deserved to have Dad spend our money on Jim, Jack and Jose and then turn around and blame us when he couldn't pay the rent or feed us!” He reached out and gripped Dean’s nearest hand, forcing his brother to look him in the eye as he added, “And you sure as hell didn't deserve to get beaten all those times he hit you because you wouldn't let him hit me.”

Dean looked away, jaw clenching. It wasn’t something they had ever talked about, mostly because it hadn’t needed to be voiced out loud for them to get it. It stayed hidden, tucked behind razor smiles and a fierce protectiveness that went both ways, out of sight like the scars on Dean’s back hidden beneath his flannels and henleys or the home-done tattoo on Sam’s chest that matched the slightly more legal one Dean had because no one would tattoo a thirteen year old. Sam didn’t regret bringing it out in the open now, because he needed his brother to understand that Dad was never going to have the same kind of stranglehold on Sam that he still had on Dean, tied to faded memories from before the fire. Before their mother died and their father’s soul died with her.

“Besides,” Sam finished, pushing his voice towards a lighter tone and pulling Dean’s gaze back up to him again, “you have custody of me, not him. He doesn’t get a say anymore."

"Okay, fine, maybe you’re right,” Dean snorted, shaking his head. Sam would lay odds that his brother still didn’t entirely believe that he hadn’t somehow deserved the abuse, but he was at least willing to concede that Sam was right about Dad having no say. His expression turned pensive moments later. “What about Uncle Bobby, though? You know he's always treated us like we were his own kids, as much as Dad ever let him before their fight. Hell, he wanted to adopt us after Dad got arrested! How do you think he's gonna handle hearing you’re taking up with a guy three and a half years older than you are?"

"Probably less freaked out than he was the time he thought I was taking up with you,” Sam retorted, and had the pleasure of seeing Dean’s expression turn poleaxed.

“He thought what?!” Dean gaped. Sam couldn’t help but laugh a little, though he kept it quiet so as not to wake Castiel.

“It’s nothing people haven’t been thinking about us for years, Dean, and he didn’t disown us over it. Before we took off for Minnesota, he took me aside and stammered his way through asking if I was okay with you taking me so far away and did I need to tell him anything. Poor bastard was relieved when I told him we weren’t actually sleeping together euphemistically, but he told me that it wouldn’t make a lick of difference if we had been so long as you were good to me and that was that.” Sam shook his head, grinning fondly at the memory. “Trust me, I’m not worried about Uncle Bobby. Actually, I’d lay odds that once he got used to the idea he’d try and adopt Cas, too!”

“Good. That’s... that’s good,” Dean managed, still looking a little disturbed. He shook his head and pulled a more serious expression on, dropping down onto the couch beside Sam and knocking their knees together. “Look, Sammy, I’m about to break my no chick flicks rule so listen up. You’re my little brother and I worry about you. And for all we’ve only been friends with him for two years, I worry about Cas just as much. I know you love him, and I know you know what love is and what it isn’t, and you’re smart enough to know sometimes love isn’t enough to weather the shit that’ll come flying. So I gotta ask, because I don’t wanna see either of you two get hurt: is it gonna be worth it? Is  _he_  worth it?”

“Yeah,” Sam said softly, looking down at Castiel’s sleeping face. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss into the tousled dark hair, drawing the sleeping boy just a little bit closer. “No matter what happens... he’s definitely worth it.”

“All I need to know,” Dean said, sprawling back against the arm of the couch and nudging Sam’s knee with a foot. “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam answered with a small, grateful smile.

“Welp!” Meg exclaimed, breaking the solemn mood as she flopped down onto the couch on Castiel’s other side, just barely missing landing  _on_  her sleeping friend. Ignoring the bitchface Sam shot her, she continued, “Another successful court held and dismissed! Who’s wired and who’s tired?”

“Tired,” Dean deadpanned. “I’m getting old. Put me in a rocker with a cane and some fuzzy slippers so I can shout at the stragglers to get off the lawn.”

“It’s been a night to remember,” Sam conceded, thumb stroking absently along the line of Castiel’s arm. “Even with all that, though, I don’t think I could sleep yet.”

“I know I can’t sleep yet!” Charlie said from where she had draped herself over the big armchair, waving a hand at Castiel. “How is  _he_  knocked out so thoroughly?”

“Lots of alcohol,” Meg and Sam chorussed knowingly.

“So none of us - besides Cas - are down to sleep yet,” Dean summarized, surveying the small but mostly hardy group. “Cards Against Humanity?”

“Bring it, Winchester!”

**-End-**

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaand that's a wrap! Thank you all for joining me on this magical, kiss-filled journey! If I get any more brainwaves for this universe, they will be directed to one or more sequel fics. Hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it~!


End file.
